


Coda

by Ellie5192



Series: A Little Light Music [11]
Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mind the swearing- it’s small but there.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie5192/pseuds/Ellie5192
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"... he wonders what she'd say if he just gave up and retired so they could be together. He wouldn't really, of course, because that's just ridiculous, but it's no more ridiculous than the cloud that hangs between them..."<br/>Follows Canon in the Little Light Music series. Pre-ship and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Includes mhopeg’s prompt: ‘Andy’s oral fixation (toothpicks, gum, always something in his mouth) is driving Sharon crazy.’  
> Always and as ever, I hope you enjoy this one.

**Coda**

 

Andy scrubs a hand over his eyes as he sighs to himself, chewing absently on a toothpick. The couple of weeks since their kiss have been unbearable, and he wonders what she'd say if he just gave up and retired so they could be together. He wouldn't really, of course, because that's just ridiculous, but it's no more ridiculous than the cloud that hangs between them, and he wishes there was some kind of middle ground between a relationship and being just friends. Something that allows them to be together without breaching the boundaries of propriety.

It's easy to forget all about it when they're out doing their jobs; even lunch with the whole team can be friendly enough if they make a point to sit apart and don't talk about the shared times between them. But when it's just them, or he catches her eye across the way, a pang jolts through his chest and he has to look away, because knowing what he could have- the domesticity that would be so damn easy between the two of them, and with the kid as well- hurts, in the same way that it hurt when he first lost his wife and children to the bottle and couldn't see them every day.

Provenza has noticed- of course he's noticed, he's a lifelong cop- but whether he can tell that this is different is another story. He corners him alone in the break room, just as Andy's finding a moment to himself and clearing his head, and Andy knows he's in for it by the dark and angry look on his partner's face. 

"You need to knock it off" he orders, pointing his finger and closing the door behind him for some semblance of privacy. 

"What?" snaps Andy from his place by the coffee machine, toothpick bobbing in his mouth. He's been in a foul mood all day because of the case- they all have- and he's in no mood for a lecture, though at first he's genuinely confused over what this is about.

"You and her need to pull your heads out of your asses and get it back in the game. You make me sick"

"I'll say again, what the _hell_ are you talking about" he says as he turns slightly, taking out the toothpick and slipping it into the chest pocket of his suit jacket.

"Don't play dumb with me Andrew, I've known you a long time, and I have _never_ seen you so hung up on a woman"

"Hung up? Who's hung up?"

"You are" barks Provenza, his eyebrows rising. 

"On who?"

" _On who_ " he mocks. "On Raydor, that's who" 

"What?" squeaks Andy in disbelief, shaking his head as though to clear out his ears. "We work together, it's been a shit day, excuse me if we're all a little on edge"

"Oh no" says Provenza, wagging his finger at him and stepping closer. "It's not just today. Hell, it's not just this week. You two have been making eyes at each other for months, and then suddenly a couple of weeks ago it all turns broody and you're acting like she dumped you at prom. Get a grip-"

"You have no idea what you're talking about" says Andy, shaking him off with an annoyed glare and collecting his coffee. 

"Oh really. Well then why haven't you been chasing that hot blonde that just transferred upstairs, pretty young thing, likes pink skirts. Hmm?"

"What blonde?" asks Andy, looking perplexed and confused and a bit put out. 

"Exactly! You're too busy eyeing off your girlfriend. It's affecting your game, but more importantly it's effecting this team. Already Sykes has asked me why you and Raydor are always partnered up, and just earlier I had Sanchez ask me if you'd know what the Captain has for her lunch order. _Sanchez_. The man speaks four words a day and he wasted them on an observation about your inappropriate conduct"

"Hey" barks Andy, looking suddenly very serious and genuinely mad. "There is nothing inappropriate going on. Nothing. And I won't have you saying otherwise. She's already under enough scrutiny from Taylor- the man's just looking for an excuse to force her into retirement and fill this place with people who, quite frankly, won't give a shit about _your_ ego and will be happy to toss you out on your ass too. So lay off, before petty rumours start to be taken seriously"

Provenza stands there for a moment in shock, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes slowly coming to a realisation that Andy doesn't notice before it's too late. 

"You love her" he says, his voice betraying his deep and honest surprise. That he doesn't look disgusted or offended by the revelation speaks to his acknowledgement that the emotion he's seeing in the squad's resident playboy run deep to the soul; this is not some petty crush that he's been watching play out, this is honest to god love. Andy just stands in front of him with a dark look and says nothing, his eyes showing his livid anger and maybe even a trace of betrayal. 

"You're in love with Raydor" he says again with a wave of his finger, except the slight distinction in words seems important. 

"You need to stop" says Andy, his voice low in his chest, his lips curled in a scowl, as though pretending to be angry will somehow cover the truth. 

He can't help but feel relieved that someone else is in on the secret. It feels less of a burden to make it real, and not just a figment of his imagination. Provenza just stands there in his shock and takes it all in, cataloguing and recalling all the months that led to here; all the little things that seemed inconsequential on their own, but that together paint a vivid picture- every look and quirk and coffee and laugh, from both of them. Andy stares him down, practically daring him to make another comment, and Provenza loses his bite, his eyes softening just a fraction, recognising the position his partner is in.

"And would I be correct in assuming this love is not so much unrequited as it is forbidden?" he asks, his voice adopting a sort of kindness. 

Andy completely deflates, his angry stance and hard eyes giving way to weariness as he lets out a breath and turns around, stepping back to his cooling coffee and absently stirring it. 

Provenza continues to study him, and he can't deny the tragedy of the situation. He's never been Raydor's biggest fan, not by a long stretch, but he has come to respect the woman, and holds a grudging fondness for her in light of seeing her as a mother and a friend. He can't deny that it's an unusual match, but one that just might work if given the chance. He thinks that they're probably exactly what the other needs.

"I kissed her the other week" admits Andy, barely above a whisper, giving the last piece to the confusing puzzle that has been their behaviour towards each other.

"You what?" 

"At the fancy surveillance job. By accident, mind you"

"Yes, because it's always an accident when you kiss a woman" replies Provenza with a roll of his eyes. Andy just ignores him, too caught in his confession.

"And now it's a big fucking mess and we can't do anything about it"

"Well, can't you go back to when you two were like a couple of teenagers making googly eyes? I mean, what's one kiss?"

Andy stays silent for a long while, and Provenza watches his back, really not sure how to respond. This is beyond anything the two of them have had to council each other in- falling in love with the boss, kissing her, not being able to be with her.

"I don't trust myself" admits Andy, shamefaced at sounding so pathetic in front of Provenza of all people. 

As he picks up his mug and takes two big gulps of the lukewarm coffee, Provenza just shakes his head and quirks his eyebrow, not at all sure what to say to that.

“Well, I don’t envy your position” he finally says, gruffly, but really just feeling awkward. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you two have to sort something out. You can’t let this affect this team, or Taylor will have both your asses regardless of whether or not you’ve done the horizontal mambo”

Andy snaps a look at him, then softens as he realises that he’s right. At the end of the day, if their behaviour is being affected by each other it won’t matter a damn if they’ve actually done anything.

“I’ll try and sort something out” says Andy.

Provenza only nods, once, firmly, satisfied with that answer. “See that you do” he says.

With a final look that holds kindness and perhaps a bit of mirth, he leaves Andy alone again, leaving the door open on his way out. Andy knows he won’t get a chance to talk to her in the immediate future- the case really has been wearing them all down, and he’s thankful for a night at home to just watch television and chill out without the stress of it all.

The next day, after they’ve made an arrest and the deal has been struck, he finds himself in the break room again, and only a few seconds later she walks in too.

Her steps falter just slightly when she realises it’s him, but she keeps walking forward, never one to be so petty as to not be in the same room as him. He pulls her mug out of the cupboard that he’s standing in front of, but doesn’t prepare the cup for her. He’s trying to find the smallest of ways to distance himself.

“We have to stop meeting like this” he croons, his toothpick once again hanging out of his mouth. His flirting feels half-hearted. She huffs, but she doesn’t really find it all that amusing, and he understands.

They stand together in silence as she takes out a teabag from the cupboard, and the way he’s nervously flicking the toothpick between his teeth drives her crazy. She reaches her hand over and collects the sugar, and her hand almost brushes his, and his damn toothpick nearly takes out her eye, and she holds back a huff. Far be it for her to tell him what he can and can’t put in his mouth. She bites her tongue and tries to ignore the movement of his mouth around the offending object, and instead focusses on her frustration with him.

He almost cost them their case, and she’s still not happy with him, and the awkwardness between them and their proximity is only adding fuel to the fire.

After a few tense moments, in which they both handle the kettle and the milk from the fridge, Andy just can’t take it anymore, and he turns and faces her, suddenly very close.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to get over-emotional in there again”

“Please, see that you do. We almost lost our deal to an officer-involved beat down”

“I know. I won’t let it happen again”

His tone is genuinely sorry, or as sorry as Andy Flynn can be over threatening to punch a man in the mouth.

“Thank you” she says with a jerky nod, stirring her tea and putting the teaspoon in the sink.

They fall into silence again, and it would be comfortable if they weren’t both hyperaware of what the other was doing.

She hears him sigh, and can detect his mood before he opens his mouth, though it would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t say anything and just kept quiet.

“I can’t do it anymore” he says softly, taking his toothpick out of his mouth, and she has a fleeting thought that he better throw that in the bin, or that’s just gross.

“What?” she asks, looking at him in the eye. Anything else she has to say is lost as she looks at him and realises what he’s talking about. She looks very nervous, and he understands that this really isn’t the time to do this, but he got a whiff of her perfume when she’d stepped close to him, and all he can think about is how she feels when she’s in his arms and they’re dancing around her living room, pretending like this is not the beginning of something huge.

“I can’t ignore it anymore. It’s killing me” he says without looking at her, tossing his toothpick in the bin beside the bench.

“We have to” she says, tears almost springing to her eyes, her voice cracking as she plants her hand on the edge of the bench, his unexpected frankness catching her off-guard.

“Provenza told me to pull my head out of my ass because it’s affecting our ability to work together”

“He what?”

She looks worried, and a little bit fearful as she crosses her arms around herself, so he shakes his head to comfort her, knowing he can’t touch her for fear of crumbling the last of his resolve.

“I set him straight. But the point is he noticed something is up. How long before everyone else does too, huh? What different will it make if we’re together or not- either way it’s inappropriate”

“We can’t do this” she whispers, shaking her head, her voice stronger despite the lower volume. “You know that”

There’s barely a foot between them, but they’re not touching because the walls are glass and anybody could walk by. The last thing they need is to risk their jobs over a very deliberate nothing.

“I want to be able to kiss you again without worrying about our jobs”

“Andy…”

She shakes her head, looking at him in a way that almost breaks his heart, because it’s there plain as day; she wants that too. She is aching to touch him, to let him wrap his arms around her; to kiss him senseless and then let him take her home and do a whole lot more than that. She’s been hurting just as bad all this time, and that kills him, because he thinks if it was just about him he could find a way to get over her, but it’s not, it’s mutual, and that’s just not fair.

“I want to sit on your couch and fight about whether to watch a movie or watch the game”

“Please. Stop this” she whispers harshly, her hands tightening on her own arms and her head hanging down. She can’t look at him; she thinks if she does she’ll finally give in, and she can’t let that happen because she has fought too long and too hard to get to where she is. She has sacrificed for her career, and worked for years to find a balance with her husband that works for them both, and she can’t let this beat her, now, just when things have settled.

“I want things to be different” he whispers to her, fighting with everything he has not to lean his head down and kiss her hair where it rests a few inches from his lips.

“And you know why they can’t be” she mumbles back.

“Who’s going to care about a couple of old farts breaking a teeny tiny rule? I can keep it a secret if you can”

“I’ll care” she says without conviction, like she only half means it, though they both know that’s not true. “And besides, you know as well as I do that these things never stay a secret for long. Never. And it always ends badly” 

“Who says it has to end at all?”

That sounds overly sentimental, even to his ears, but he feels like it’s honest enough. They’re too old to be flinging around and keeping it casual- he finally feels like it’s time to just find someone nice and settle down. It’s no coincidence that he feels this way because he’s in love with her; he thinks if he got to spend the rest of his days with only her that would be enough. Love has a funny way of changing people like that.

“Don’t be so sentimental” she chides as she meets his eye, though he can tell his admission affects her. “That’s not the point and you know it”

“Sharon, I-“

“I have to get back, excuse me”

The use of her first name snaps something inside her, and with tears in her eyes she steels her spine. She takes a deliberate step back from him, looks him in the eye and then turns on her heal and walks out the door. Her tea sits untouched on the counter, and he doesn’t bother to call out to her. He sighs to himself, angry and worried that he just made everything worse.

This tension between them just keeps repeating itself and they keep going back to the same stalemate, and he can’t stand it. He won’t let her go, and she won’t break the rules. They really can’t go on like this. Sooner or later one of them is going to crack, and he just knows it’s going to be him. He curses her strength and her conviction, and hates that it’s one of the things he loves most about her, and he very nearly send his fist flying into the cabinet. But he holds himself back, takes another toothpick out of his pocket and sticks it in his mouth, picks up his drink and then hers too, and stalks towards her office.

He walks in her open door and puts her tea on the desk in front of her, and she looks a little bit scared that he’s going to continue their scene, here, where anyone can look in through the blinds.

“I’ll do my best” he says softly, not meeting her eye.

And then he turns and walks out, coffee in hand, before she can respond. Before he makes a fool of himself. Before he wraps his arms around her, plants his lips on hers, and refuses to move out of sheer stubbornness and pride.

He really doesn’t know how to solve it.

This never-ending loop is killing him. 


End file.
